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deepundergroundpoetry.com
"Lacrimosa: the Ominous Portentous Siren Tune Blows"
You really think that it's far and
not near
(the liars have strewn you out);
healvens not close but Hel is
here
(open eyes-sewn shut and peer)
So, bang Your head against all
that You Believe in
(foolishly lie to Yourself);
pretend... go ahead, I dare You,
but You won't change shit in the
end
An pinch of Salt over the shoulder
for luck; maybe some smeared
blood on the post to keep it away,
but when the man in the mask and
nothing within comes around, You'll
still fucking pay
Lament the day of Lacrimosa
(it's more nigh now than You want to
think);
every now and then Your eyes blink
to see the true meaning against
imposed restraints
Feel the wynds blowing over Your
cold shoulders from the wyngs of
the ones waiting in the regions just
outside of the farthest reaches of
the light...
There are no variables; exchanges -
Ha, ha, ha... there are none when
it's all said and done
When it's all done and the records
being read...
Just throw an pinch of Salt over the
shoulder for luck (go ahead); maybe
some smeared blood on the post to
keep it away, but when the man in
the mask and nothing within comes
around You'll still fucking pay
Lament the day of Lacrimosa
(it's more nigh now than You want to think);
every now and then Your eyes blink to see
the true meaning against the imposed
restraints...
Of what we all feel (and fear); we were
told the truth is out there and it can set
us free if we follow the path straight and
close our eyes to everything real or else
(if we only Believe - so let's all burn an
candle and say a silent whisper to the
scheme)
But I say, "FUUUCCCKKK THAAATTT,"
I'll throw that shit over my shoulder and...
When the man in the mask and nothing
within comes around, Him I'll fucking pay
And not lament the day of Lacrimosa (weeping)
(it's more nigh now than what we want to think);
because my eyes have blinked enough to see
the true meaning against the imposed restraints...
So that one by one I've my stitches plucked-out
not near
(the liars have strewn you out);
healvens not close but Hel is
here
(open eyes-sewn shut and peer)
So, bang Your head against all
that You Believe in
(foolishly lie to Yourself);
pretend... go ahead, I dare You,
but You won't change shit in the
end
An pinch of Salt over the shoulder
for luck; maybe some smeared
blood on the post to keep it away,
but when the man in the mask and
nothing within comes around, You'll
still fucking pay
Lament the day of Lacrimosa
(it's more nigh now than You want to
think);
every now and then Your eyes blink
to see the true meaning against
imposed restraints
Feel the wynds blowing over Your
cold shoulders from the wyngs of
the ones waiting in the regions just
outside of the farthest reaches of
the light...
There are no variables; exchanges -
Ha, ha, ha... there are none when
it's all said and done
When it's all done and the records
being read...
Just throw an pinch of Salt over the
shoulder for luck (go ahead); maybe
some smeared blood on the post to
keep it away, but when the man in
the mask and nothing within comes
around You'll still fucking pay
Lament the day of Lacrimosa
(it's more nigh now than You want to think);
every now and then Your eyes blink to see
the true meaning against the imposed
restraints...
Of what we all feel (and fear); we were
told the truth is out there and it can set
us free if we follow the path straight and
close our eyes to everything real or else
(if we only Believe - so let's all burn an
candle and say a silent whisper to the
scheme)
But I say, "FUUUCCCKKK THAAATTT,"
I'll throw that shit over my shoulder and...
When the man in the mask and nothing
within comes around, Him I'll fucking pay
And not lament the day of Lacrimosa (weeping)
(it's more nigh now than what we want to think);
because my eyes have blinked enough to see
the true meaning against the imposed restraints...
So that one by one I've my stitches plucked-out
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